


I Hate Fergus

by galaxystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Decisions, Editor Castiel, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tattoo Artist Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean runs a failing tattoo studio, but his newest client is a little more than he was expecting. But Dean doesn't date clients, and he doesn't make exceptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate Fergus

The door to the tattoo studio swung open with a crash and Dean was inherently thankful he didn’t have the needle pressed to anyone’s skin, or that could have been a disaster. His first wonder was if the catch had broken, causing the door to swing on its own, but then he heard cursing coming from the front desk.

Glancing down at the redhead he’d just finished tattooing, he gestured for her to sit up. “Go take a few seconds to look in the mirror, and I’ll wrap it up when I get back.”

Business was slow on a Wednesday afternoon, so this was the only appointment he had. He would stay open for drop in sessions, no doubt someone would come in before the night was up. Charlie was on her break while it was quiet, she’d be back in thirty minutes or so but for now, Dean was holding the fort. He liked it when he was alone, just him and the art he created.

But now he had to find out which jackass was vandalising his store for no good reason.

He stalked out the front to see a guy in a trenchcoat of all things, standing sheepishly by the desk. Dean knew he looked pretty intimidating, all ink and piercings, but he didn’t think the way the guy shivered was a reasonable reaction to his presence. He wasn’t that weird-looking.

“Any reason you’re trying to break my door, buddy?” He demanded, walking around the front of the counter and folding his arms. If the douchebag with no respect for other people’s property gave him any trouble, Dean would have no issue in kicking his ass out onto the streets.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect the door to be so light. I hope I didn’t break anything.” His eyes showed signs of recent tears, red rimmed and inflamed, and he definitely wasn’t crying over crashing open somebody’s door. So there was obviously more to his distress than that.

Dean softened, always a sucker for pretty blue eyes, especially when the owner looked so downcast. The door didn’t appear to be broken, so there was no reason to hold a grudge.

“No harm, no foul, man. What can I do for you? You looking to get a tattoo? Name’s Dean.”

The man relaxed a little, offering a smile. “My name is Castiel. I was looking to have a tattoo covered up, actually. I made a bad decision a couple of years ago and now I have my ex’s name on my arm. I want rid of it.”

Dean whistled. Not the first time he’d had to cover up a name, hell, he’d even done that himself. One of his first tattoos was the name of the woman who’d given birth to his son. Of course, Ben didn’t turn out to be his after all, but that was another story.

“Alright, well, if you want to take a seat, maybe have a look at some of the flash on the wall.” Dean paused at the look of confusion. “The example tattoos that we’ve got pinned up. Make a note if you see something you want. If you already got something in mind, then just go ahead and fill in this form. I gotta finish up in the back and then we’ll see what we can do about getting you a cover up.”

He winked at the guy and disappeared out the back to change his gloves. Once he’d done that, he began to wrap up the redhead’s tattoo, handing her a small tube of cream. “Remember to keep applying this, you don’t want the tattoo to dry out. And don’t scratch it, no matter how itchy it gets.” He instructed, leaving her to redress while he cleared away the ink, stripping the plastic sheet from the chair. This studio was his life, and he took cleanliness very seriously.

When his customer left, after thanking him warmly, Dean returned to see Castiel waiting patiently on the seats. He took the form from him, scanning over the details and satisfied with what he saw.

“Well, everything seems to be in order. So what exactly are you wanting to cover up the name with, Cas?”

Castiel shifted, awkwardly. “I thought maybe a fish?”

Dean paused, waiting for some further details or just an explanation of why the hell he wanted a fish of all things on his body. “A fish?” He repeated, doubtfully.

“Well, I… I believe that God created the idea of evolution. That every land animal, including humans once came from the sea. That God created a fish that would one day crawl out of the sea, because He had big plans for it. And I like the idea that He has big plans for all of us.” He explained quietly.

Dean was begrudgingly impressed by Castiel’s logic, and gave a small smile. “Alright, dude, well, a fish it is. I can draw up a couple of sketches for you to choose from, or you can let me freehand the design onto your arm.”

“I trust you,” Castiel murmured, standing up. “My sisters have gotten their tattoos here, you come highly recommended.”

Leading the way into the backroom, Dean smiled at that. He liked that people recommended him, remembered his studio. It was all he’d ever wanted. Sliding the needles from the tattoo gun, he disposed of them and changed his gloves before tearing open the new packet.

“Listen, I gotta ask. You came in here pretty upset, and you want a name covered up on your arm. I just want to make sure that you’re not gonna just take your ex back in the morning and regret this tattoo. You should think about it carefully.”

Castiel blinked, looking confused. “What? Oh! No, no,” he shook his head quickly. “No, we split about six months ago. I caught him cheating on me and I moved out. I just had a rough day today, my sister set me up on a blind date and it was a disaster. I just needed to do something to forget about it and I want rid of this tattoo.”

That was understandable. Plus, blind dates could be pretty rough, Sammy had tried to set him up a few times but it had never worked out. They were just awkward and for the most part uncomfortable.

“So why’d you wait until now to get this dude’s name covered up?” Dean asked, gesturing for Castiel to roll up his sleeve so he could see what he was working with.

Castiel bit his lip. “I didn’t,” he muttered, eventually, shedding his jacket and unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt, rolling it up.

Dean peered at the tattoo and then burst out laughing. “Cas, you are something else, man.”

The writing was still visible, a neat black script that read ‘Fergus’. Okay, so Dean wasn’t touching the fact that Castiel dated a guy named Fergus, because it wasn’t like Castiel was the most common of names. But what really made him laugh was the bright red addition to the tattoo. The words ‘I hate’ had been added above his ex-boyfriend’s name. Clearly, Castiel had an angry streak in him, and Dean felt a small flutter of appreciation that this dude hadn’t taken the cheating lying down. He’d gone out and gotten a small piece of revenge inked onto his skin.

Castiel flushed, looking slightly pleased if a little embarrassed by his poor life decision. It looked like he was trying to fight down the smile, but somehow it won.

“I was angry.”

“That’s a work of art,” Dean assured him, teasingly. “I’m almost tempted to refuse to cover it up. Let that be a lesson to all cheaters. Don’t worry, Cas, I’m gonna make sure that this fish tattoo is badass. It’ll be awesome.”

He spent a few moments shaving and disinfecting the skin before he even picked up the tattoo gun. “Ready? Good.”

Dean generally chatted when he worked, but a companionable silence fell between them. It was familiar and pleasant, both of them watching as the outline of the fish slowly appeared on Castiel’s forearm. It was much bigger than the original tattoo, but cover ups needed to be, to get the right amount of detail across.

Of course, the silence didn’t last long when Dean had a co-worker that could talk for hours without taking a break. Charlie came back off her break, perching on the edge of the desk and watching Dean’s every move, talking about the newest tattoo she’d done for Gilda, her girlfriend.

Castiel, to his credit, listened as though he were interested, smiling as Charlie talked about her partner with a huge amount of love and affection. Dean, however, had heard the story at least three times already that day, and felt a small amount of disappointment that he was no longer alone with Castiel.

“Hey, Charlie, why don’t you take off early today? We’ve had one drop in and I don’t think we’re going to get any more today,” Dean mused, checking the time against the wall. “Besides, I think I’m gonna close up early, grab dinner after I’m all done here. Why don’t you take Gilda out for dinner tonight?”

Charlie squealed with excitement, ruffling Dean’s hair as she ran out of the room. “Later, bitches!” She called back.

Castiel looked a little nonplussed at being referred to as one of Charlie’s bitches, and said nothing about it, just gave Dean a crooked smile. “So where are you going for dinner tonight? Anywhere nice?” He asked, making conversation.

Dean shook his head, concentrating on adding the highlights to the tattoo for a moment, before looking up. “Nah, I’m probably going to just head home, make dinner and watch some TV. What about you? Any plans?”

Shaking his head, Castiel met Dean’s eyes. “No, I… obviously, my blind date was a disaster. We were supposed to be going for dinner, but we met in town and he was a little… too much for me. I’ll probably just go home and order a pizza or something.”

Putting the tattoo gun down, Dean smiled, gesturing to the finished tattoo. “You’re all done. I’ll give you a few moments to check it out, and then we’ll wrap it up.”

He moved away to start clearing up before he did something crazy like ask this complete stranger out on a date. So Castiel seemed… amazing. Kind, caring, attractive, a good listener. That didn’t mean they were in any way compatible. Although the chemistry sizzling between them was unquestionable. He didn’t date clients, he made sure never to take any phone numbers. So what was special about this guy, that he was almost wavering in a decision he hadn’t questioned in years?

When he looked back over his shoulder, Castiel looked almost disappointed, but that changed to a smile when he examined his tattoo.

“This is amazing, Dean, thank you. I can’t express in words how much this means to me. I can’t even see the writing anymore, and instead I have this… work of art on my arm,” Castiel breathed, turning to admire the ink from all angles. “It’s perfect.”

Dean smiled, inclining his head with a pink tinge to his cheeks. He always appreciated compliments to his art, particularly if it was something freehand. This, however, meant more to him than any compliment, as he could see the joy on Castiel’s face. It was a far cry from his expression when he had first entered the shop, and that made Dean feel on top of the world.

For that reason, once everything else was taken care of, he charged Castiel a little less than he normally would for a tattoo of that size, refusing to take a tip from him. “Cas, seriously, it’s not necessary. Just recommend my store to a few people, huh?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Castiel blurted, a shy and hopeful expression on his face.

Dean inwardly hated himself, because he wanted to, so much. Castiel was nothing short of adorable, but he knew he couldn’t break his rule about dating clients. It was too messy, and although he was tempted to make an exception this once, his conscience wouldn’t let him.

“I can’t,” he replied regretfully. “I want to, trust me. If I saw you on the street and you asked me to dinner, then my answer would be hell yes. But you’re a client, Cas, and I don’t date clients. I did it once and it almost turned into a lawsuit. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Castiel looked crestfallen, but resigned. “I understand,” he said quietly, giving Dean a sad smile. “I respect your decision, and I promise to mention your store to everyone I can. It was wonderful to meet you, Dean.”

Dean watched him leave, feeling thoroughly disappointed himself. That could have been something amazing, and even after being rejected, the guy promised to promote his store anyway. Sighing, Dean finished cleaning up and disinfecting everything, before locking up and heading home to another night on his own.

 

* * *

From opening the next day, the phone started to ring and continued ringing. So many people were trying to book appointments, that Dean found his calendar filled for the next three months. He didn’t understand where the influx of customers were coming from, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. At this rate, he might need to hire on more help. He already had all hands on deck, with Benny and Kevin coming in to take on extra appointments that Dean simply didn’t have the time to fill.

“Where the hell have all these people come from?” Dean asked, scratching his head in bewilderment, but not at all complaining about the money he would be making. The majority of people coming in wanted very intricate and expensive tattoos.

“Beats me, chief,” Benny shrugged, taking the appointments book and scrawling on it. “I’d say don’t look a gift horse – what the hell are you makin’ that noise for, woman?” He turned to Charlie as she let out an almighty shriek.

She slammed a newspaper down onto the counter in front of them, jabbing her finger at one of the pages. “Look! It’s that guy who was in here last night! That’s his fish tattoo!”

Dean snatched up the paper immediately, his jaw dropping. Sure enough, there was a picture of Castiel’s tattoo, and a whole article that raved about his store, praising its cleanliness, friendly and talented tattoo artists and cheap prices.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, looking to the bottom of the article to see who had written it. His jaw dropped when he saw the credit as C. Novak, editor-in-chief. He’d seen Castiel’s signature on the declaration form he’d signed. “Holy shit. He promised to promote the store, but he never said he was a newspaper editor. Holy shit.”

Regret flooded through him that he’d been unable to take Castiel up on that date. Hell, he wanted to kiss the guy for this. They’d barely been making enough money to keep themselves going, but now they looked wired to make a tidy profit, and it was all thanks to Castiel. If Dean didn’t think he was amazing before, he definitely did now.

No, Dean had made his mind up. He was going to run down to the headquarters at lunchtime and try to see if he could at least thank Castiel for what he’d done.

He got there at twelve thirty, pushing through the revolving doors. Dean knew that people were staring, it wasn’t often people came in here dressed like him, with dark black ink from his neck down and multiple piercings in each ear.

“Can I help you?”

Dean turned to see a dark-haired receptionist staring at him with no small amount of disdain. It made him a little uncomfortable. He already knew he didn’t fit in here, but he had no other way of contacting Castiel.

“Hi, I was, uh, wondering if I could see Castiel Novak? I don’t have an appointment, but he, uh, wrote about my store in today’s paper. I was hoping I could thank him?”

The receptionist pursed her lips, before adopting a sickly sweet smile. “I’m sure I can pass on the thanks for you, Mr. Novak is a very busy man.”

Dean grew a little desperate, because it was clear from this woman’s attitude that she had no intention of passing on any information at all. “Please, I’m sure he’ll see me if you call him. My name is Dean Winchester.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Novak is out to lunch at the moment, and won’t be back in the office this afternoon.” She didn’t quite sneer, but it was a close call.

Dean’s ears burned from shame. He looked around the lobby at everyone in their business suits and ties, and there he was in a faded leather jacket and boots. He didn’t fit in here, and he wouldn’t fit in with Castiel either.

“It’s okay, don’t bother passing the message on. Thank you for your help.”

His shoulders hunched, Dean left the building as quickly as possible, letting out a shuddering breath once he was out in the street. Well, it was probably a good thing. God only knew why Castiel had even asked him out in the first place. Dean wouldn’t fit in anywhere on the kind of dates that Castiel must be used to. He turned away, heading back to his car.

“Dean?”

He turned instinctively at the sound of his name, and blanched as he saw Castiel hurrying towards him.

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

Dean shrugged, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. “I just came to thank you. I had no idea you were going to put my store in the paper, but we’ve been getting calls all morning for appointments, and I just wanted to thank you.”

Castiel smiled, looking genuinely pleased to see him, clearly in no hurry to be anywhere. “That’s great, Dean. You did something wonderful for me by covering up my tattoo and I wanted to return the favour.”

“Well, you did. You probably just single-handedly saved my store,” Dean gave a shaky laugh, edging away from Castiel. “Look, I’m gonna head back. Your receptionist said you had meetings all afternoon, so I’ll get out of your hair.”

He watched the same disappointed look appear on Castiel’s face as the night before and he couldn’t bear to look at it.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel said eventually. “You came all the way down here just to say thank you, and you were going to leave without even seeing me? I thought you might call, and Meg, that’s my receptionist, she was under orders to put your call straight through to me.”

Dean gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I told her my name and she said she’d take a message. She just looked at me like…” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Listen, you did a solid for me and I appreciate it, but I don’t belong here, where people wear suits and ties and drive fancy cars and have snooty receptionists. I don’t get why you even asked me out, or did you just want to slum it for a night?”

That was rude, but Dean was tired, and miserable that he’d gotten his hopes up over nothing, and now he just wanted to leave. He would go back to his store and lose himself in his art and forget that he’d ever met Castiel. Before he could walk more than a step, a hand grasped his shoulder firmly.

“Dean. I asked you out because I thought we could have something special.” Castiel’s words were as firm as his grip, as if he needed Dean to understand something. “My receptionist might have looked down on you, but I never will. I have a tattoo, remember? Underneath the fancy suit that I have to wear for my job. When I get home, I wear sweats and t-shirts and order pizza and watch crappy TV. That’s what I did last night, that’s what I’ll do tonight. What makes us so different? That I have a bigger paycheck? Is that really what matters?”

Dean shook his head, turning back to Castiel but still not daring to look up at his face. “No, of course not. I just… I don’t know,” he finished lamely. When Castiel didn’t speak, just gave him time to collect his thoughts, Dean was once again struck by his kindness. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” He asked, eventually, straightening up and squaring his shoulders.

If he had any doubts about his decision, they disappeared at the way Castiel’s face lit up with joy as the blue-eyed man nodded. And as they sealed the deal and their lips met, nothing else mattered except the knowledge that this could lead somewhere pretty damn special.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


End file.
